


The Best Thing That Ever Happened

by Thebonemoose



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dialogue Heavy, Drinking, Gen, Light-Hearted, Nail Polish, bisexual ben arnold, no beta we die like men, platonic intimacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:02:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23725765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thebonemoose/pseuds/Thebonemoose
Summary: Ben and Sammy get stuck in the station on their day off.
Relationships: Ben Arnold & Sammy Stevens
Comments: 20
Kudos: 74





	The Best Thing That Ever Happened

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello, I am here with another fic that came out longer than I planned. Whoops. 
> 
> If this is weird it's because most of it was written when I was quite tired and also it was more of a stress-relief thing than a serious, planned fic. But nevertheless, I hope you enjoy!

**10:47 PM**

“Uh, Sammy? We’ve got a problem here,” Ben said, struggling with the station door. 

Sammy turned, his coat halfway over his shoulders. “What is it?”

“We’re stuck, dude.” Ben jiggled the door handle fruitlessly. 

“What? What are you talking about?” Sammy stepped over and tried the door. It didn’t budge. He sighed.

“We could call Emily?” Ben suggested, his hands in his coat pockets. 

Sammy just shook his head. “She and Lily aren’t getting back until tomorrow afternoon, remember?” 

Ben swore. “Chet?”

“It’s almost eleven on a Friday. He’s probably… _busy_.” Sammy shot Ben a look. 

“How did this even happen?” Ben tried the door again, even knowing it wouldn’t work. 

“Didn’t Merv say he was putting in new doors after that whole thing with Pete?”

Ben frowned. “What? When was that?”

Sammy made an ‘I don’t know’ sound. “It was in an email.”

Ben narrowed his eyes, and pointed at Sammy with his index finger. “Okay, first of all, I am not a fan of the version of you who is self-righteous about finally reading emails. That’s _my_ thing. Secondly… I do remember that, now.”

“We could try to get in contact with him,” Sammy offered, and Ben sighed. 

“I guess it’s worth a shot. I’ll email Merv, you text the girls?” he said, halfway to his desk already. 

Sammy nodded, and the two did their respective contacting. 

Suddenly, Sammy looked up, his eyes wide. “Shit, Ben! Troy! We should call Troy!”

Ben’s eyes widened, too. “Yes! Okay, let’s call hi-- wait, Sammy. He and Loretta are at her parent’s this weekend.”

“Fuck, you’re right. Why is everyone out of town right now?” Sammy put his head in his hands. “More importantly, why did we have to get your laptop on tonight of all nights?”

Ben raised one eyebrow. “You wanted to watch How It’s Made as badly as I did, Sammy, don’t lie.”

“We could’ve looked online! We didn’t need to come all the way here just because you forgot your computer.”

“But I have the best ones downloaded, Sammy! They made CDs!”

Sammy groaned. “Look, let’s face facts. We’re stuck here for the night. Let’s just… Get some coffee and settle in, yeah?”

Ben sighed, but nodded. “Do… do you wanna watch How It’s Made?” he asked somewhat hopefully. 

Sammy deflated. “I’m just not in the mood anymore, man,” he said, and Ben nodded dejectedly. 

**11:19 PM**

“Oh shit!” Ben exclaimed triumphantly.

“What?” Sammy asked, calling out to Ben from where he was in Chet’s office. 

“Okay, first of all, I got snacks.” Ben held up a handful of candy. 

“Those aren’t snacks, those are disgusting rectangles of high fructose corn syrup”

“You sound like Cynthia. Have a Snickers, Sammy, you’re not you when you’re hungry,” he smirked. 

“I hate you,” Sammy said, but caught the candy Ben tossed at him. He looked at it. “This is a Reese’s Cup.”

“It’s your favorite,” Ben sang.

Sammy glared at him, but unwrapped the candy and popped it in his mouth. “What was the triumphant yell for?” he asked around a mouthful of chocolate and peanut butter.

“Oh yeah. I found whiskey!” Ben held up a bottle of alcohol, a big grin on his face. “Wanna get drunk?”

Sammy looked at him skeptically. “Ben, I’m not thirty anymore. I have to be a grown up about things.”

Ben just stared at him. “Dude, why are you acting responsible? It’s just me here. There’s no one to impress.”

Sammy looked at Ben, deadpan. “...Alright, pass it here,” he said, and Ben beamed and deposited the bottle in front of Sammy, then left to grab their mugs. 

“Your chalice, my good sir,” Ben said, handing a mug to sammy. Sammy raised one eyebrow and nodded his head, then poured them both a drink. He slid Ben’s across the table to him, and Ben grabbed it, and raised it up.

“What should we toast to?” he asked.

“Chet? It is his liquor we’re stealing.”

“Speaking of, we can never tell him this because he will kill us.”

Sammy nodded emphatically. “No, absolutely not, are you kidding? We’re gonna fill it up with water when we’re done. I mean… he won’t notice, right?”

Ben shook his head conspiratorially, and the toasted. “To Chet,” he said.

“To Chet!” they clinked their mugs together, and drank the whiskey. 

And immediately regretted it. 

Ben coughed pathetically. “Why is Chet drinking straight gasoline? Whose idea was this?”

“I… regret my entire life,” Sammy said, grimacing. 

They spent a few moments frowning at the taste and burn of Chet’s ‘good stuff’.

“Well… more?” Ben asked, once they had recovered. 

Sammy sighed, then nodded.

**11:50 PM**

“--Of course, by then I’m-- well, let’s just say I’m not myself by then, right?” Ben said around giggles, and Sammy was laughing so hard he was snorting. 

“So Jean comes over and she’s like ‘dude…why are you here?’”

“Is that a direct quote?” Sammy asked, grinning. 

Ben nodded matter-of-factly. “Yes, that’s verbatim. So anyways, I’m struggling to think of something to say because what-”

“What can you even say in that situation?”

“Exactly! Exactly! I am just scrambling for words at this point, and then who comes out of the front office but R-”

“NO.”

“Yes, Sammy, I shit you not, It’s fucking Randy Orden, the legend himself. And he comes over to me, looks me up and down like John _fucking_ Wayne, says ‘Son… I suggest you get yourself right before somebody else does it for you,’ and I swear to god, Sammy, I almost shit myself.”

“No fucking way, Ben. That did not happen.”

“No, really! And then Jean has no idea whether to look embarass or vindicated, right, so I’m here, pantsless, more than a bit of weed in my system-- But I still maintain that was not my fault!”

“It was a little bit your fault.”

“N-- okay, maybe. But what it led to was DEFINITELY not my fault,” Ben insisted, and Sammy just started laughing again. 

“What did you do after?”

“I wore an extra skirt Jean had so I wouldn’t get arrested for public indecency.”

“At 1 am?” he asked incredulously. 

“Well sure, it was past midnight but it was still a Wednesday. And anyways, I definitely pulled it off.”

Sammy chuckled and shook his head fondly. “Pass the whiskey, you lunatic.”

Ben grabbed the whiskey and handed it lazily to Sammy. They’d moved from sitting at their desks to laying on the floor of their office (Ben’s fault, he insisted the lighting was ‘moodier” in their office. It wasn’t moodier, it was just dimmer because a fluorescent had burnt out and nobody had gotten around to replacing it.) Their heads were propped against spare, bunched-up King Falls Am T- Shirts, and they had been drinking whiskey at a steady rate for around half-an-hour. 

Sammy drank straight from the bottle, like they had been for the past ten minutes. Ben suddenly bolted upright, startling Sammy. His eyes were wide and manic, and he looked at Sammy intensely. “I have… an _amazing_ idea,” he said, and stumbled to his feet. He hurried to his desk, and began searching frantically through his drawers. “Aha!” he exclaimed, and held up something that Sammy couldn’t see.

Ben returned to Sammy and plopped down cross-legged beside him in one fluid motion, then once again held the object up for Sammy to see. 

It was a bottle of sparkly blue nail polish. 

“I,” Ben announced somewhat pointlessly, “am going to paint my nails.”

“Where’d you get that?” Sammy asked, moving closer as Ben unscrewed the top and began to paint his index nail. 

“Damn, that’s too much,” Ben said quietly to himself, and tried to wipe the excess polish off on his hand, which didn’t help, but it _did_ make a mess. “It’s Emily’s, she was hanging out in our office and got bored, so she brought a few things to do to leave here for the future.”

“Smart,” Sammy said.

Ben swore again as the brush swiped over his cuticle, leaving a stroke of blue almost every but his nail. 

“This is hard, dude, I don’t understand how people can do this.”

“Presumably, they’re sober, and also have done this before.”

“Fair,” Ben said quietly, his brows furrowed as he frowned down at his nails. 

“Do you want help?” Sammy offered.

Ben took a look down at his messy, globby nails. “Um… Yes.”

Sammy sat up and crossed his legs, taking Ben’s hand and placing it on his knee so he could see Ben’s nails without craning his neck too badly. He started with the hand Ben hadn’t painted, and pointed to the blue fingernails of Ben’s other hand.

“This is bad, you should wipe that off.”

“With what?”

“Your teeth, Sammy said offhandedly, and froze when he saw Ben’s fingers in his mouth, and thick, half-dried nail polish on his front teeth.

“Ben,” he said, disappointedly, and Ben squawked. 

“Don’t suggest things to me when I’m drunk! I’m so susceptible! You know this, sammy!”

Sammy sighed, and began painting. He did a far better job than Ben had, and finished quickly. 

“Alright, don’t use your hands, it has to dry.”

“How long is it gonna take?”

Sammy shrugged. “How should I know?”

“You said that with a lot of confidence for someone who doesn't know what he’s talking about.”

“You know me well enough to know that’s how I live my entire life, Ben,” Sammy said with an easy grin. 

Ben rolled his eyes and waved his hands around in the air in an effort to dry them off quicker. “I’m painting yours after this. We have to match.”

“Are you going to do a better job on mine than on yours?”

“I’ll definitely try my best.”

Sammy shrugged. “Good enough.”

Ben began painting Sammy’s nails, working far more meticulously than he had with his own. Sammy appreciated the extra effort. 

Suddenly, Ben snapped his head up. “Sammy!” he exclaimed, and Sammy recoiled at the sudden loud noise. “Oh, sorry. But we should play music!”

“Do you have anything in mind?”

“Only the good shit. Nothing sad! No bleeding heart music.”

Sammy sighed. “But that rules out all of my msic,” he said dramatically. 

“Use my phone then,” Ben said, and returned to painting Sammy’s nails. 

Samy grabbed Ben’s phone with his free hand and unlocked it easily. He scrolled through Ben’s library for several moments, and then confidently picked a playlist, putting it on shuffle. 

As the first notes came through the tinny speakers of Ben’s iPhone, Ben looked up at Sammy, an approving grin on his face. 

“Oh, it’s been a while, dude,” Ben said. Sammy chuckled as the song continued. 

“I’m just a teenage dirtbag baby!” Sammy and Ben sang as the chorus began, and they laughed.

“This song is so stupid,” Sammy said fondly, and Ben couldn’t help but agree. 

“It’s good though,” Ben replied, and Sammy quirked his head in silent agreement. 

They listened to music until Ben finished with Sammy’s nails, and then he capped the nail polislnd returned it to his desk. 

Ben laid down again, his head still pillowed by the nest of T-Shirts they’d made.

“I’d say we should grab one of Chet’s pillows from his couch, but I think we both know better than that,” Sammy said as he laid down beside Ben. 

Ben just nodded emphatically. 

**12:13 AM**

“Hey, wanna tell secrets?” Ben asked, out of the blue. 

“You’re really leaning into the whole slumber party thing, aren’t you?” Sammy asked in amusement. 

Ben just shrugged easily. “It is what it is. What do you say?”

“You already know all my secrets,” Sammy said.

Ben turned to him with a skeptical expression. “Sammy, there is no _possible way_ that is even _remotely_ true,” he replied.”

“You do! I don’t have any other secrets.”

“I know one of your secrets. It’s a big one, granted, but it’s still just one. There’s no way that’s the only secret.”

“Well, all my other secrets are wrapped up in that one,” Sammy admitted. 

Ben thought for a moment. “Just tell me things I don’t know about you, then. And I’ll tell you _actual_ secrets.”

Sammy sighed performatively, but complied. “Hm, let’s see… did I tell you about my first job?”

“Mm-mm.” 

“Well, it was at Home Depot.”

Ben snorted derisively. 

“Unnecessary, but accurate. I had no experience with… anything, frankly. Could barely work the register. I got fired after a week.”

“That’s a hilarious mental image.”

“I might have a picture of me with the orange vest I could try to find.”

Ben turned to Sammy and gripped his arm. “Sammy,” he said seriously. “That would be the best gift you could ever give.”

“Oh...Kay?”

Ben released him.

“Your turn, Ben.”

Ben didn’t hesitate. “One time I swallowed a baby tooth on purpose.”

“W...why?”

“I was curious!”

“About _what_?” Sammy asked incredulously. 

“Teeth, I guess?” Ben said confusedly.

“You were such a weird kid, Ben.”

“Yeah. I should call my mom.”

“You should _always_ call your mom.”

“She deserves the world.” 

“Yes, she does.”

“Okay, your turn. What’s your next secret, huh? The true power of the Home Depot?”

“I’m going to come and steal all of your snacks and then I’m going to put them all in Mary’s compost bin.”

“What about the wrappers?”

“Wh- Ben, why would you care about the wrappers?”

“I don’t want the worms to choke.”

“What worms?”

“Mary’s compost worms.”

“Obviously I’m unwrapping the snacks before I compost them, Ben, I’m not an animal.”

“So where do the wrappers go?”

“I dispose of them as ethically as I can.”

“And how would you do that?” 

Sammy pretended to think. “Well they’re not recyclable, and I don’t want them to end up in the ocean or something, so the logical solution would be to sneak into Beauregard’s mansion and chop them up into tiny bits so he can have it with his breakfast of cold porridge.”

Ben barked out a laugh. “Just like Grammy used to make?”

Sammy grinned. “Exactly.”

Ben shook his head, then clapped his hands once. “Okay, back to business, Stevens.”

Sammy sighed dramatically. “Fine. But I don’t know what to say. Just ask me what you want to know and if I don’t want to answer, ask another one.”

Ben nodded. “Do you talk to any of your family?” he asked, his voice carefully casual. 

Sammy shook his head. “I don’t have any siblings, my grandparents died when I was young. I’m not close with my parents, as you probably guessed based on the fact that I never talk about them.” 

“What happened?”

“Nothing, really. Just a… shitty childhood. Homophobic, naturally, but more than that they were just assholes. My dad more so, but my mom could keep up with him on her worst days.”

Ben looked at him sadly. “I’m sorry, man.”

“It’s alright. I mean, now it’s alright. It sucked for a super long time when I was growing up, but… I’ve got family,” Sammy said, smiling. They were quiet for a moment, then Ben broke the silence. 

“More alcohol?” he asked with a grin.”

Sammy laughed and nodded. 

“Okay, my turn?”

Sammy nodded. 

“Okay. I have a secret talent. I haven’t told anyone this, not even Emily, alright?”

“Seriously? You tell Emily everything,” Sammy said.

“Well, not _everything_ —“ 

Sammy raised an eyebrow.

“Alright, I tell her _most_ things. But not this.”

“Just tell me already!”

“I can box jump onto our desk.”

Sammy sucked his teeth. “You’re lying. There’s no way you can do that,” he dismissed. 

Ben didn’t waver. “Swear on a stack of bibles.”

“Prove it.”

He snorted. “Dude, I am very intoxicated right now. That’s a terrible idea! You’re supposed to be the responsible one.”

“It’s being overridden by how badly I want to see you box jump onto our desk.”

Ben made a loud noise that was somewhere between a sigh and a groan, but he obliged. He stood (with some difficulty) and set to work clearing a space on his desk. Then he stretched for entirely too long, and Sammy booed him until he stopped.

“Alright, alright! I’m doing it.” He checked his foot stance and his posture. 

And then he jumped.

Perfectly.

Onto his desk.

“Holy SHIT!” Sammy’s jaw dropped. 

Ben grinned and threw his arms up. “Ha HAH!”

“How the fuck did you manage that? I should’ve been recording that, oh my god, Ben!”

“I’ll do it again so you can record it.”

Sammy immediately scrambled to pull his phone out of his pocket and Ben got down from the desk.

“Alright, I’m recording.”

“Oh, shit do I have to do an intro now?” Ben laughed.

Sammy shook his head.

“Whatever, um… I’m gonna do a box jump but I’m also drunk so if this ends badly… it’s Sammy’s fault.”

“Wh- hold on, now—!”

“Can’t talk Sammy, I’m jumping!” Ben shouted, then jumped again, just as perfect as the last time.

He stood to his full height on top of the desk, and bowed theatrically. “I’d like to thank Sammy, who is both my greatest hater and my biggest fan.”

“I don’t think that’s entirely accurate.”

“Sounds like something a hater would say.”

“Get off the desk, you child,” Sammy snarked, and Ben laughed and did so.

Sammy ended the recording and pocketed his phone. He handed Ben the bottle of whiskey and saluted him.

“Alright, my turn. Let me think of something, first.” Sammy took a few moments, then opened his mouth. “So, I fell in with this group of seniors when I was a freshman, and they were— they were pretty edgy, I’d say. They did their fair share of smoking and drinking. So they offered me cigarettes. And of course, that’s how I got addicted to nicotine at 15.”

Ben winced sympathetically. 

“I was bad at coping and also making good life choices.”

Ben snorted. “You were like that when we met, Sammy,” he said.

“You--shut up, let me finish the story. ANYWAYS. I kept smoking until I moved out and went to college. At which point, I met Lily and Jack. And Lily didn’t give a shit, she sometimes smoked with me. But Jack couldn’t stand it. He had really bad asthma when he was younger, and being around smoke always made it worse. I felt so bad when he told me, I threw my pack away that night.”

“You quit smoking because a cute boy said he didn’t like it?”

“You… you could look at it that way. It wouldn’t be completely _inaccurate_.”

“That’s adorable.”

Sammy grumbled something inaudibly.

“Alright my turn,” Ben said, and passed Sammy the bottle. 

“The floor is yours,” Sammy replied, and took a sip.

“So… I’ve never said this out loud before, okay? But it’s something I’ve been thinking about, for… kind of a while, actually.”

Sammy looked at Ben, his expression patient and open. Ben let out a slightly shaky exhale.

“Basically, I… I think I might… be bi?” He bit his lip, anxiously awaiting Sammy’s reaction.

“Ben…” he said slowly. “You could _TOTALLY_ be bi.”

“Right? Thank you! Like it kind of makes sense though?”

Sammy nodded emphatically, one hand still wrapped around the bottle. 

“Look, King Falls was super hetero growing up— I mean, it’s still super hetero, with a few _notable_ exceptions,” Ben said.

“Lily,” Sammy supplied, and Ben laughed. 

“Sure, Lily.” Ben chuckled. “But seriously. It was all very… heteronormative,” he stated.

“Someone’s been watching gay documentaries,” Sammy remarked lightly, and Ben rolled his eyes.

“There just wasn’t room for being… different? And I was already _so_ different, so I think I just put the whole thing aside. And then I forgot about it for several years.”

“Typical Ben fashion.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“So, you’re maybe bisexual?”

Ben’s expression turned thoughtful. “I mean? I think so. I feel like I’ve… been fooling myself, thinking that only liking one gender was in the cards for me. Imagine labels were like jackets, okay? 

“For a long time, I thought heterosexual jacket fit me just fine, right? But then I thought about trying on a new jacket, and I saw the bisexuality jacket, and now I’m like ‘wow that jacket looks so comfortable, I bet it has dope pockets and is very warm’ and now I’m trying on the bi jacket and actually the hetero jacket never fit well at all, it was just what I could find at goodwill before going to a tailor and finding an actual good bi jacket. Does that make sense?”

Sammy nodded slowly, his eyebrows furrowed. 

“Huh,” Ben said, a bit dazed. “I guess I’m bi.” 

Sammy smiled. “You know, we have almost the full acronym. We just need a trans person and we’ll have collected the first four letters,” he joked.

“Maybe one of us is non-binary and we don’t know it,” Ben laughed. 

“Only time will tell,” Sammy said with an easy shrug. 

Silence fell, comforting and simple. Their dim, small office more like a haven in that moment than ever before.

“Thanks for telling me, Ben,” Sammy said, turning their easy quiet into something heavier, with greater potential.

“Of course, Sammy,” Ben said. Like it was easy. Like it was obvious.

Sammy scooted closer to Ben so their heads were resting on the same pile of shirts. Then Sammy knocked his knee against Ben’s, who reciprocated in turn. 

And soon enough, they were having an all out war, scrambling to defend and attack at the same time.

**12:42 AM**

“I have something bad to say. You may hate me for it.”

“Ben, you really can’t start a conversation that way. It does terrible things to my blood pressure.” 

“I’m sorry but you’ll get why when I explain. There’s just no other way to open this bag of worms.” 

“It’s ‘can of worms’.”

“What? That’s ridiculous, why would anyone put worms in a can?”

“Why would they put them in a bag?”

“Well—“ Ben paused, and frowned. “Huh. Why _would_ they put worms in a bag?”

“Please tell your story before I start ripping my hair out.”

“Fine! Okay. So, you know how Dwayne libbydale and I went to school together?”

Sammy nodded, his face a careful mask of neutrality.

“Well, he was the first kid I knew who was gay. Who told me, I mean.”

“...okay?”

“So, he tells me, and we’re like, 13, right? And I’m like ‘ok’ and then— because I _think_ I’m straight but as we found out tonight, I’m definitely not—I kiss him.”

Sammy bolted upright. “You kissed Dwayne Libbydale?”

“We were kids, so please stop sounding the way you’re sounding.”

“Ben… I don’t know if I want to laugh or cry.”

“Leave me alone! It was my first kiss, okay.”

Sammy’s eyes bulged out of his head. “YOUR FIRST KISS WAS WITH THE DARK?!”

“He wasn’t The Dark then! He was just my nerdy friend Dwayne! Oh my god, I never should’ve told you this. This has been a huge mistake.”

“I am… disgusted. You kissed him. VOLUNTARILY. I have to re-evaluate my entire life, Ben,” Sammy said solemnly.

Ben rolled his eyes. “Whatever, drama queen. It could be worse.”

“How. How could it possibly be worse,” Sammy asked flatly.

“Could’ve been Pete.”

Sammy made a thoughtful noise.

Ben made a warning noise low in his throat. “Sammy, no.”

“If I had to pick someone for a younger version of my best friend to kiss, it would probably be Pete over The Dark,” Sammy said with a shrug.

“No! Dude, no. You’re— I love you, but you’re an obtuse motherfucker. Pete’s a dumbass!”

“The Dark is arguably much more of a dumbass,” Sammy insisted.

“Either way, it doesn’t matter, because I’m dating Emily, and she’s a genius, and she knows how to make peanut butter fudge, which is all I’ve ever wanted and more.”

“Aw. Pete’s still preferable over Dwayne, though.” 

“Sammy— no. Just… no.”

“I understand. No, I do, I get where you’re coming from. The truth is scary. You’re afraid of how powerful this knowledge is.”

“Ohhhh my god.”

“You’re afraid of the strange pull the Peter Elonius Myers has on you. You’re afraid it’s too strong.”

“Sammy, someday you’re going to fall asleep, and I’m going to come into your room with a pair of clippers and shave all of the hair off of your head. Are you prepared to look like an egg, Sammy? Have you prepared for that eventuality.”

“I already look like an egg, that’s why I wear loose buns. If I tighten it too much I become genuinely frightening.”

“I know you’re just deflecting, but I also kinda want to see egg Sammy.”

Sammy sighed but sat up, took the hair tie from his wrist, pulled his hair all the way back, and tied his hair back.

“Oh my god, dude.”

Sammy nodded. “It’s not great.”

“How have you been able to hide that from me for five years?”

“Lots of practice.”

Ben looked a bit like he’d been gifted with some terrible arcane knowledge, so Sammy passed him the whiskey.

**3:06 AM**

“Sammy.” 

Sammy rolled over to look at Ben. They’d made makeshift beds on the floor of their office, padding it with blankets and t-shirts. 

“Yeah?” He replied, tiredly.

Ben’s eyes were closed, but he was facing Sammy. “You moving to town was the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbled. 

Sammy felt the statement curl up in his heart, in the same place that memories of Jack lived, and Emily, and Lily. 

“It was the best thing that ever happened to me, too, Ben,” Sammy said softly, but it didn’t matter.

Ben was already asleep.

Tomorrow would bring a mess to clean, and a horrible headache, and they would probably have to dodge a punch or two from Chet. But for now, they were safe, and warm in the radio station, and Sammy couldn’t find it in him to dwell on the future.

It would come when it came. Sammy could wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Lily and Emily unlock the station the next day to find Ben and Sammy absolutely wrecked, looking like two hungover zombies with delightfully painted nails
> 
> Also sorry if my depictions of whiskey-drinking are inaccurate, I think alcohol is largely yucky, and also I'm not allowed to drink in my country yet.   
> To everyone who read: thank you! Comments and kudos are always appreciated :)


End file.
